


A Thing of Beauty

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delia and Alex observe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thing of Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a brief mention of past sexual abuse.

In fairness, I should have been seated with Roger. But Josiane, as a princess, was considered a more fitting escort for the Duke. Instead, I was placed with Alex, near the back of the throne room -- where we lacked a clear view of Prince Jonathan, and more to the point, he didn't look up and immediately see us.

We could see Roger and Josiane quite clearly, though. Ranged behind them were Josiane's ladies, and the handful of Copper Isles noblemen she'd brought with her.

"Stings, doesn't it?" Alex said in my ear.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Roger's hand rested low on Josaine's back, in all defiance of propriety. I could just about see her ladies itching to object, and every one of those noblemen had a hand on his sword. But they couldn't do a thing unless the princess herself protested -- and she was too crack-brained to realize being manhandled in public was inappropriate.

"You're jealous."

I cut my eyes at him. "As though you're not."

He chuckled, but didn't answer directly. "He's just dying to get her into bed," he whispered instead.

"You think? I don't see why." To the rest of the court, we must have looked like lovers having a private conversation. I made sure to keep a soft smile on my face.

"Don't you?" He nodded at Josiane. "Not my type, but objectively, you have to admit she's lovely."

I shrugged. "She's pretty enough, but I wouldn't think she'd be any _good."_ I faked a yawn behind my hand. "No experience, you know."

I caught the wicked light in Alex's eye a moment before he spoke. "Yes, but his grace _likes_ that. He prefers to... _teach."_ He nudged me with his elbow. "That's where you went wrong, maybe. You _knew_ too much..."

I did -- Uncle Remus had seen to that, before I ever set foot in the convent. I looked down, at my hand resting on Alex's arm, and tightened my grip. All five of my nails dug into his skin, leaving his smooth silk tunic undamaged but still -- I hoped -- marking his flesh. Give Thom something to worry about, later. "That doesn't explain why he got bored of you," I countered. "Unless you _didn't_ learn quick enough."

"Shut up, Delia," he said, but his heart wasn't in it. We'd had a variation on this argument half a dozen times before: it was familiar. It struck me that for all the sniping, Alex was the closest thing I had to a _friend_ at court.

I followed his eyes: the herald was standing before the doors now, and the trumpet blared.

Alex and I exchanged cutting remarks about the minor nobles who were introduced first, but of course, we were both waiting for the last pair: 'Alanna the Lioness,' as she now called herself, and another foreign princess. At last, the herald announced them. It was worth standing in the hall for an entire evening, just to see Alanna forced into a man's role once more. She held her arm out awkwardly, the taller princess's hand resting on it. Her face wore Squire Alan's familiar scowl. It was all I could do not to laugh.

Then my eyes lit on the woman beside her. Princess Thayet Jian Wilima, lately of Sarain, was truly a thing of beauty. I knew at once that Josiane's hopes were worthless; Alanna's too, if she had any (and perhaps that accounted for the scowl). Jonathan would make this woman queen. I was sure of it.

Worse, I felt my own ambition crumble. I could never have been queen, I knew that. I was never pure or good enough -- thank you, Uncle -- but I came to Corus with plans of my own. What king doesn't need a mistress? But I knew Jonathan well: even at a distance, in profile, I could see he was more than awed. He would marry Princess Thayet, with her pure, iridescent beauty. What's more, he would be faithful to her.

I felt Alex's fingertip under my chin, lifting my lower jaw: I'd been staring, mouth open, at the princess. "Don't drool," he whispered. "Floor's already soggy enough."

I looked around, and wasn't surprised to see that most of the assembled crowd were also staring. Then the round of applause began, and I felt like I was going to be ill. Jonathan would marry her. And, gods help me, I was sickly jealous – of _him._


End file.
